Issue Alert
1:46 p.m. x 2002-12-08
I just noticed today's date. Its December 8th, for those that haven't figured it out.. but I'm sure you all have.
Today would be my very first dog's birthday, and he'd be 16 today. He was a little mutt, and he was white with tan ears. He looked like a terrier unless he needed a hair cut. Then he looked like a poodle. His name was Tramp, after the way they tramped over the brifge in Billy Goat's Gruff. It wasn't after Lady and The Tramp, regardless of what people said.
Anyway, that poor dog went through so much hell. Had I known the abuse he'd endure, I never would have asked for him. I don't know how many times he got out and ran off before he got neutered and my dad would throw him up against the walls when he came back. He got kicked so many times in the ribs and left outside all the time, even in the winter.
Then, when my dad moved to New Mexico, he said "Hey, Carla. Do you want Tramp since I'm moving?" so naturally I said of course.
He said "I don't know then because I already gave him to an old lady over on Green Street and she loves him. I don't think it would be right to ask for him back."